


Natural Order (Adopted)

by EternalHope7



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Armorer, Betrayal, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Female Din Djarin, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Imperial Officers (Star Wars), Internal Conflict, Murder, Older Man/Younger Woman, Parent-Child Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Rare Pairings, Scheming, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Typical Imperial Backstabbing, courting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27551560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalHope7/pseuds/EternalHope7
Summary: His belief was that everything had its natural place in life. The Mandalorians belonged with the Empire, that was the way of things. Numerous events had parted both sides from their paths but the Imperial was confident that he could begin to restore them to their rightful places. The small tribe on Nevarro would be the beginning of it all.
Relationships: The Client (The Mandalorian TV)/Din Djarin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. First Contact

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Natural Order](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044418) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



He’d chosen to forgo his bodyguards for this trip, making the trek to the cantina alone. The others had disapproved of this but he had insisted. The Great Purge had done... _significant..._ harm to the Empire’s standing with the Mandalorians. If he wanted to have any hope of finding the tribe on this planet he couldn’t start with strength. A man with stormtroopers would be viewed as a threat, but a man on his own? Perhaps they would be willing to speak with a man.

He entered the cantina, ignoring the few glances he got as he walked past the bar. Making his was through the crowded room he took his seat before Greef Karga. Clasping his hands in his lap the man waited for the Guild Master to speak. The other man eyed him and then sat forward.

“My boys say that you’ve been asking around about Mandalorians,” he began, “why?” He pointedly looked at the Imperial pin the man wore. “You gotta grudge? Lookin' to finish what the Great Purge started?”

“Nothing of the sort,” the Imperial replied as he shook his head.

“Then why’re you looking for them?” the Guild Master pressed.

“That is a discussion I will hold with the Mandalorians themselves, should I receive the chance,” he replied. The other man huffed in mild annoyance.

“That’s really how you’re gonna play this?” he asked. The Imperial gave a thin smile.

“It is.”

“Fine, then.” The Guild Master shifted in his seat, pointing past him to a secluded room off to the right. “It’s your head if she doesn’t like your answer.” The man stood, touching the bag on his belt to feel its weight as he started toward the small room. Filthy beings of all kind brushed against him as he walked and the Imperial took a breath and slowly let it out. Reaching the room, he peered inside. There was a small two person table before him and at the far end sat a Mandalorian. He savored the moment - finally he was in presence of one of the elusive warriors. 

“Sit.” The woman ordered. He did as told. The only movement she made the slight tilt of her dark helmet to watch the Imperial. “Explain yourself,” she said, “what do you want with us?"

“I wish to speak with your tribe-”

“No.” The Mandalorian said.

“What I have to say will be of great interest to them,” the Imperial assured her, but the Mandalorian appeared unmoved.

“No.”

“You don’t trust me,” he stated. The woman gave a slight nod. “I’ve brought an offering. A sign of good will, if you would.” He sat back, slowly reaching down to unhook the pouch. He held it up to let the Mandalorian observe it and then held it out to her. When the woman didn’t move the Imperial leaned forward to set the bag on the table. He then clasped his hands in his lap. After a moment of silence the Mandalorian reached out and took it. Her head cocked as she felt at what was inside and the Imperial imagined her frowning behind her helmet. Thin fingers carefully tugged the bag open and a new level of stillness fell upon them as she stared down at the ingot.

“Beskar?” The woman asked, her voice quiet.

“It’s real,” the Imperial assured her, watching as the Mandalorian slowly ran her fingers over the smooth metal. He settled back, content to wait as the woman examined it. She at last looked back up to him, moving forward as if to give the Beskar back. The Imperial held a hand up and shook his head. “It is an offering,” he said, “keep it.” Those thin fingers curled around the ingot and the Mandalorian returned it to its bag and set it on the table.

“What do you want with the tribe?” she asked again.

“I wish to speak with them,” the Imperial repeated. This time the Mandalorian didn’t immediately turn him down. The helmet stared in his direction, then turned down toward the ingot. Silence.

“I can’t make that decision for them,” she finally said. “I’ll give them your offering and tell them what you want. You’ll accept whatever decision they make.” The Imperial smiled.

“Agreed,” the older man replied, watching as the Mandalorian stood and took the pouch.

“When they’ve decided I’ll have the Guild Master inform you. We’ll meet here again if they agree.”

“I’ll wait for his word,” the Imperial said. The woman turned and left without another word. His smile widened. He would wait with complete confidence- the tribe would agree to speak with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Din tucked the pouch into the crook of her arm as she shouldered her way out into the crowded streets. _Beskar_. The Imperial had _given_ her _beskar_. She kept her head down and walked as quickly as possible back in the far direction of their entrance spot before a thought stopped her cold. She looked down at the pouch. What was one ingot of beskar compared to the helmets of her tribe and the knowledge of their Armorer? Din glanced back at the people who continued about their day. No one hesitated with her stop.

The long way around, then. Just to be sure. Her path was a looping one through several streets and she paused when a familiar voice called out to her.

"Mandalorian!" Din looked as Marun, an older man, waved her toward his store. She obligingly stepped inside. His other customers stepped aside so she could reach him. "I just wanted to thank you again for fixing that leak. Here," he leaned down behind his counter and emerged with a handful of wrapped treats. "How are those foundlings of yours doing?"

"They're doing well," she replied. The woman reached into her pouch and drew out a portion of the Calamri Flan she'd been given for her last mission. The old man's face screwed up in disgust as she offered them to him.

"No, no," he waved them away. "Money should never be... _squishy_."

"That's all I have," she told him as she pocketed them. He sighed and looked down at the treats. Rubbed at his chin. Din watched as he pushed them towards her.

"On the house, then." Din shook her head.

"I can't-"

"Oh, take it! Before I change my mind," he encouraged her. Din nodded and scooped up the offered treats.

"Thank you," she said. "The foundlings will appreciate this."

"Good." The old man smiled before waving her away. "Now go on, Mandolorian, I've got paying customers to take care of." She pocketed the wrapped candies and left the store. Glanced around again. No one looked impatient. No one watched her. Din finally set off in the true direction of her favored entrance to the covert. Walking faster as she went the Mandalorian reached the old entrance and took one last look around before she stepped inside. Certain now that she hadn't been followed, Din made her way down the worn steps. She reached the bottom and started down the long corridor. Nodding to the sentry as she passed the man, Din felt her tension drain away at the always welcome sight of her fellow Mandalorians. A few paused in their discussions to nod at her as she passed them by. She returned the nods.

"Djarin!" Din smiled as three Foundlings raced down the corridor towards her. She knelt and dug out the candies to hold them out for the children. They divided up the treats amongst themselves and cheerfully thanked her before rushing off back the way they'd came. Din continued onward. Touching her pouch, she walked through the interconnected tunnels and headed for the heart of their covert.

It didn't take her long. Din reached down and untied the pouch from her belt as she neared the forge chamber. Stepping inside, she leaned her weapons against the wall and moved towards the low table. She sat down before the forge, staying silent as the Armorer finished her work. The other woman set her hammer and tongs aside before she walked around the forge to sit at the other end of the table.

“Well?” she asked. The Mandalorian set the Calamari Flan on the table before she began.

“He’s Imperial. Wants to talk to the Tribe, said that it ‘would be of great interest’ to us.”

“And?”

“He gave me this,” the Mandalorian said, placing her pouch on the table. She pulled the top open and reached in to take the ingot out. She set it before the Armorer. The woman reached for it, examining the metal as she turned it in her grasp.

“Beskar,” she said. Din nodded. “This was gathered in the Great Purge,” she continued. “It is good that it is back with the Tribe.”

“Yes,” the Mandalorian quietly agreed.

“A pauldron would be in order,” the Armorer began but she stopping when the Mandalorian shook her head.

“It was unearned,” she said, “a gift from the Imperial.”

“It was a gift given to you,” the woman replied.

“For the Tribe,” she carefully insisted, and she stared at her for a long moment before finally nodding.

“Then it is a generous gift, one that will sponsor many Foundlings.”

“That’s good,” the Mandalorian said. She watched as the Armorer ran her gloved thumb over the symbol of the Empire. They sat in silence as she thought, the Mandalorian closing her eyes as she took a quiet breath and slowly let it out. It was always warm here. She breathed in the heat. The low rustle of armor and cloth made her open her eyes and the woman watched as the Armorer set the ingot on the table.

“I will speak with the Imperial,” she declared. The Mandalorian’s eyes widened in surprise. She would? Din hadn’t thought- “You will bring him here. I will ensure that his arrival and departure are untroubled.”

“I... understand,” the Mandalorian agreed. She stood from her seat as the woman took the Beskar. The Armorer got up from the table, turning back towards the forge as Din hesitated. When she didn’t turn back, the Mandalorian moved to retrieve her weapons, glad for her helmet as she stepped out into the main hallway. She was to bring an Imperial _here_ , to the Covert. She swallowed, pushed her uncertainties aside, and set out.


End file.
